Ground Zero Scars
by FoxiiHikari
Summary: The one day no-one expects him to show up, he is there. But he's not okay, and no-one has the guts to tell him. Save one. - Tribute to 9/11. Rated T for content, possible triggers, language, and depression. Light fluff USxUK


Yeah... My America-centric 9/11 fanfic. Brainstormed in history and written in a campus.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia because if I drew anything, it'd be stick figures. And they'd take over the world with their fail-ness.

* * *

The meeting room was relatively quiet for once. Mainly meaning that there weren't people screaming and running around and beating each other over foolish things. People were still relating to various activities of violence, such as how Romano was beating down France for groping Spain. Canada was as usual, curled on his chair, Kumajirou cradled in his arms. Korea was ranting about how pocky originated in his country, torturing the silent Japanese man across from him. Veneziano was clinging to Germany and rambling on about pasta. Russia was smiling happily down at Lithuania, fingers twining the chocolate locks into random, thin plats. England was trying to tune out the noise around him, hands rubbing his temples, tea set daintily in from of him.

The meeting had started only ten minutes ago, but so far, nothing had truly become completed. Of course, a certain loud-mouthed blond was missing, but no-one had questioned it – since they all knew why he wasn't around.

In the midst of all the chaos, the door flew open and a few of the non-preoccupied countries turned their heads to see the person they lasted expected to show up. A sheepish grin was painted on his face, arm reaching behind his head to scratch at the nape of his neck awkwardly as he stood there. "Heh, sorry, I slept in." he explained. By now, almost everyone was watching him.

After a moment of silence and awkward fidgeting, Germany stood up, easily shaking off Veneziano, who let out a faint whine but sat down in his seat. "Well, we might as well start the meeting then." he said.

America grinned back at him, though it appeared slightly pained, and made his way over to his seat beside England. The rest of the countries made their way back to their seats, sitting quietly and waiting for the presentations to start. The tall blond man in glasses and a rumpled suit ignored the few stares, shifting through his notes as he joined the others in awaiting Germany to start off the meeting.

* * *

After a few hours of nearly painful discussions that turned a bit heated and random after a while, they quickly tied up the last bit and closed up the meeting. Veneziano had instantly latched onto the stoic German man, who still blushed lightly even after the many years of experiencing the Italian's affectionate actions. Romano was dragged away from France by a chuckling Spain, and Japan hid from Korea by using his ninja skills and hiding behind China. America had grabbed his notes quickly, stuffed them away in his briefcase, and then flashed a blinding smile and a seemingly hearty goodbye before quickly exiting the building.

England watched his former colony leave and saw the bright grin fade to a solemn expression that was painfully out of place on the American's face. The shorter man reached out and caught the edge of Canada's sleeve, causing the shy country to jump lightly. "O-oh, Mr. Kirkland, hello." he squeaked out, self-consciously pulling his polar bear pal closer. Arthur sighed, looking at the other with a soft smile. "You can just call me Arthur, Matthew." he scolded lightly, causing the other to blush lightly.

Canada nodded, his strange little loop-dee-loop curl bobbing along with his motion. "A-alright… wh-what is it you wanted, Arthur?" he asked curiously, fingers stroking his bear's soft fur, trying to get him to stop his occasional squirming. The Brit sighed, his smile sliding away from his face as his emerald eyes hazed slightly with his concern. A hand ran through his tangled hands. "I'm sure you noticed that Alfred wasn't happy, no matter how big he smiled." Arthur stated, voice quiet.

The Canadian across from him let out a weak sigh, hugging his bear closer and kissing its head lightly. "Y-yeah… he's really u-upset still…" Matthew turned saddened, slightly pained blue-purple eyes up at the other, "I can feel it…" Arthur felt his heart pang, knowing how close the two were; even if people doubted it, they could truly act like brothers.

"I'm going to go try to talk to him, alright? You go relax… I know you've helped him the previous years." he said, reaching out and placing a hand on the other's shoulder to reassure him. Blue eyes watered behind glasses and the wavy-haired blond nodded. "I-I'll see you around, Arthur." he murmured, hugging his bear closer and quickly slinking down the hall. Watching him go, the Brit sighed once more, fingers raking through already messed up locks. "Why do I do this?" he murmured faintly before walking down the hall and out of the building.

* * *

Having ditched his formal wear for a more comfortable pair of slacks with a white button up and vest, Arthur found himself standing outside of Alfred's door. Sighing, he reached up and rapped his knuckles firmly against it. After waiting a moment and getting no answer, he tried once more. Groaning faintly after a minute of dead silence, he knocked more furiously. "America." he called. There was a very quiet sound, but nothing happened. Now the British man was torn between being angry and worried. "Alfred, I swear to Nora, if you don't open this damn door." he snapped finally, ready to break it down.

The door shot open at that moment, revealing a tall, grinning blond. "Oh, hey there England!"

Arthur knew something was seriously wrong then. He pushed the American back into the room and closed the door behind him, eyes boring into the other's. "Alfred, what's wrong?" he stated firmly. The other country looked surprise, the expression nearly masking the pain hidden in his deep sky blue eyes. "Nothing, why would you think something was wrong?" he bluffed. England scowled deeply. "First off, stop putting up that stupid smile of yours; I'm very aware that you aren't happy. Secondly, you called me 'England', which you never do." he stated.

The other blinked before turning away, suddenly growing stiff. "Just go away…" he muttered, eyes trained on the floor.

Expression softening, the smaller country walked up to his former colony and reached out for him, taking his arm gently. The tall man let out a quiet hiss before his eyes widened in slight terror. England stiffened, taking the arm by the elbow firmly and yanking up the bomber jacket's sleeve to reveal bloodstained skin with a single deep slice across the wrist. "Alfred…" he whispered, looking up with to meet scared, pained blue eyes that cried out for someone to rescue the injured soul.

"I-I can still fe-feel it happening." Alfred whispered weakly.

* * *

_The blond man sent a playful grin over at his brother from across the kitchen table, half-conscious as he picked up his cup of coffee. Taking a light sip, he chuckled as Kumajirou tried to snag a piece of ham, earning him a light swat on the paw from a spatula-wielding Canadian. "You really should offer to have me over and give me c-" _

_The voice was cut off as suddenly the man spluttered weakly. Matthew turned with huge frightened eyes to find his brother clutching his head and groaning weakly. "A-Al!" he squeaked, running over and grabbing his brother's arm. America only let out another groan, tears falling down his cheeks. "Something's wrong." he breathed faintly before clutching his head as his people screamed in terror and disbelief. _

_Matthew ran for the family room, flicking on the television to find that the news channel had a horrifying picture of two identical towers erupting into flames from some sort of explosion on the top floors. The newscaster was rambling on about how planes had slammed into the towers and crews were running to rescue the people before anything else tragic happened. _

_In the next room, Alfred let out a pained groan, causing his frightened brother to go tearing back to him._

* * *

The smaller country instantly threw his arms around the other, pulling him down into a tight embrace. America returned it almost instantly, using his uninjured arm and hiding his face into the other's shoulder, shaking weakly. Walking into the couch beside them, Arthur sat and pulled the other with him, fingers rubbing into his back gently and combing through his hair. He held the larger man, trying to calm his sobs. Humming quietly into the other's ear, he let the American curl into him, seeking the warmth and comfort he so desperately needed.

Once the sobs had stopped and faded to uneven breaths, England pressed a swift kiss the other's forehead before standing and helping the other up. "Let's get you cleaned up." he murmured.

Leading his former colony into the bathroom, he sat him on the closed toilet and chose to ignore the bloodied blade resting on the sink counter. Snatching up a wash cloth, he doused it under warm water before turning back to Alfred. Gently taking the injured arm, he wiped away the drying blood around the wound. Gingerly, he dabbed the slice, earning a faint hiss from the tall blond. "Sorry." he mumbled, being as light as possible.

Finishing, he looked around for something to wrap up the wound. Finding nothing, he grabbed another wash cloth and carefully positioned it over the wound, tying it with a small towel. He couldn't help but notice the other faint scars on his arm; the seven thin strips of pale flesh aligning neatly.

"Alfred…" he murmured, one finger lightly tracing the scar. The other country turned his head away, hiding his eyes. "Why do you do this… you can't be blaming yourself…" England said quietly, watching his former charge. The tall man bit his lip. "I-I'm the hero… b-but I couldn't s-save my o-own people…" he muttered.

Arthur sighed, reaching out and turning the other's face back so he could stare into the sky blue orbs he loved so much. "Alfred… there was nothing you could do. There was nothing anyone could do. Nobody knew it was going to happen; therefore it's not your fault." he explained. Biting his lip still, the American fidgeted slightly before leaning into the hand.

Arthur reached down and hugged him, rubbing his back gently to help him calm down. Arms looped around his waist and pulled him down onto the other, causing a blush to spring up onto Arthur's cheeks. "G-git!" he stuttered. "I'm sorry for doing this." Alfred mumbled into the other's shoulder, keeping him close. The Brit blinked then smiled softly, petting the other's hair. "It's alright. Just don't do it ever again." he replied. The taller country simply nodded, eyes closing as he let himself relax.

Maybe next year it wouldn't hurt so bad, as long as Arthur was there.

* * *

Annnnd that's that~! Overly angsty Alfred, I'm aware. Review? Tell me if I made any gramatical mistakes! I often miss small ones!

~ Foxxie


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